Drink, Drank, Drunk
by DarthTofu
Summary: Also known as the H.M.S. Stupidity. Another one shot Surprise and my first attempt at a humerous one. Zechs wakes up with no clue where he is and things go down hill from there. Rated for strong language.


Author's Note: All right, I've noticed that my one shots are somewhat popular. Somewhat popular meaning that I've gotten a good five reviews or so within one day of writing them. I figured, "Wow, what a good thing. How in the world can I end it?" when suddenly it came to me- attempt to write a comedic story with no real plot and no depth! Of course! No blood, nor gore, no deep dark teatime of the soul! They'll hate it! Thus, here it is: My first attempt at an actual funny Gundam Wing fic. Which, at the time of this being written, I still have no ideas for what it will contain. Seriously, I'm wingin' this one, folks. Prepare to flame!

_Sigh, read your Douglas Adams, fool._

"Shit." He wasn't sure why it felt good to say shit, but it did. He decided that he should say it again if it felt so good. "Shit. Shit." Each repetition made him feel better, though it certainly didn't stop the throbbing, nor the burning.

"Ow… Christ… Shit." He massaged his burning genitals and tried, as best he could, to figure out why they burned. The thoughts were interrupted by another urge. The urge to go to the bathroom.

"Fuck." Oh, goody, it felt even better to say this word! Giving his head a hard shake and instantly regretting the action for its affect on his hangover Zechs Merquis entered the bathroom and sat down on the toilet. The ceramic material was cold, and he could feel the action puckering every hair on his ass up and shrinking his testicles.

"Oh, joy, this is fun." Now just speaking brought pain, which resulted in his sudden decision to stop speaking. Getting up he stumbled over to the medicine cabinet behind the mirror to get something to aid his terrible hangover. The mirror refused to budge. It took him a moment before he realized that, no; he was _not_ in his own quarters in his own house.

Looking around he spotted a small cabinet left slightly ajar with a bottle of Aspirin calling his name just barely visible. He wrenched it open and popped a trio of the capsules in his mouth, belatedly realizing that he had done so with the same hand that had massaged his burning genitals.

"Oh, Christ… Shit!" He slurred once more. He sat down on the John again and attempted to focus. First thing first. What had happened last night? He racked his brain and came up with a moment of passion, something that felt remarkably wonderful and yet wrong. Beyond that he could only remember a seductive voice telling him that he had no reason to ever wear the Mask of Shame again.

Spitting a genital hair that had fallen from his hand out with disgust he pondered the situation some more.

_Purple._ The word, seemingly randomly and with no reason popped into his head.

_Fuck, it's almost as if I'm _still_ drunk from last night._

Okay, fine. Last night he got drunk. Why? What happened? Was he happy or had he found something terrible out? He wasn't generally one to drink, but Zechs could hold his alcohol, so he could only assume that he'd consumed several bottles worth of the stuff.

Searching back through the night he attempted to recall how the color purple fit in with everything else.

Walking over to the sink he turned on the water and splashed the cool liquid onto his face before attempting to remember exactly where he'd been in the first place. Who had been there would also be nice to know.

Maybe… Throwing open the medicine cabinet Zechs began to rummage through it, searching for a prescription drug of some sort which might have the name of whoever occupied the house upon it. His search was interrupted by a knock on the door and a feminine voice. 

"Gedoutathere, willya?" She sounded worse off than he was with her hangover. "Ineeda useda shower… Opendadoor," she slurred.

_Fuck. She probably thinks I'm her husband… FUCK!_ Panicking slightly now he jumped off of the toilet, knocking a framed photo off of the casing for the thing's plumbing. _Who the fuck leaves a framed photo on their _toilet He wondered, moving to avoid the shards of glass.

Lifting up the remains of the photo he found that the faces of the two people shown had been obscured by water from when he'd splashed his face, making their features impossible to distinguish beyond the fact that the woman quite clearly had purple hair while the man's hair color was difficult to distinguish. Judging by how it blended in with a cloud, however, Zechs could only assume that it was white like his own. Given the man's lithe build and height, if the bushes in the background could be used for any comparison that _was_ him standing in the picture.

"Cummon, openthedoor!" the mumbling intensified and rose in volume.

_Okay, purple, that's apparently where the hair fits in. Fine. Maybe… Maybe this is a hotel room. Maybe that's it. Would explain why there's a photo on the damned toilet in any event._

Maybe this is some single woman you found. Hell, maybe you didn't even sleep with her last night. Just because you're naked doesn't mean anything!

The other voice took its stance.

Christ, you moron, you never sleep in the nude! Your private parts are on fire, and there's a set of marks on your back that look like they were made by a woman's hands!

Surprised that he was even thinking that Zechs examined his back in the mirror. Definitely claw marks.

"Come ON!" this time the words were actually shouted and comprehendible, as well.

Now then, there's a chance that this is Noin. You both have some degree of feelings for her, her more so for you than the other way around. You were drunk last night, and there's a distinct possibility that so was Noin seeing as you generally go to the same social events.

"You have five seconds to get out of there!"

Shit! When a woman with a hangover begins speaking clearly it's a very bad sign.

"Five!"

Okay, okay, no windows, no way out, what do I do? Treat it like a combat situation!

What, brain her with the cover for the toilet?

All right, fair point.

"Four!"

Hide. Shower. Best place to hide.

She's going to be using the shower!

"Two!"

What the fuck happened to three? The little voice inside of his head had a distinctly panicky note to it, one that fairly matched the look of abject terror on his face.

"One!"

Cabinet! Under the sink! Move!

With a fierce motion Zechs ripped open the cabinet most people use for stowing toiletries and shampoo among other things below the sink and found, to his dismay that it was in fact filled to nearly its full capacity with these items.

"Zero!"

Flinging shampoo and toilet paper out behind himself Zechs forced his way in, bursting a small bottle of lotion and a larger one of "Sex lube" lurking near the front of the cabinet asunder.

With a vicious yank the door opened behind Zechs.

"Jeeze, nobodyeveninhere," the woman said, apparently having fallen back into hangover stupor. Somehow, miraculously, she had failed to notice his ass end hanging out of the back of a clearly open cabinet door and covered in Aloe Vera and "Sex Lube" among other things.

A moment later the shower water came on and a slight groan could be heard, as what Zechs assumed was hot water hit her body and aided her headache.

Okay, she's in the shower. Time to move. Being crammed into the cabinet the way he was had restricted his breathing, anyway.

Pushing outward with his hands Zechs slid out, actually thankful for having broken those bottles open, now.

As quietly as he could the man picked up a stray roll of toilet paper and wiped himself down before dropping it into the toilet, belatedly remembering that Noin, or whoever it was in the shower, was in that location. The occupant apparently noticed the sudden transition from hot water to cold, and a large amount of swearing ensued as the result.

"Damn you, don't you remember what happens when you flush the damned toilet while I'm in here? The water gets colder than the fucking Arctic! Don't you have any consideration for other people-"

Before she stated whom exactly she thought he was Zechs slipped out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom where he had awoken moments before, slowly calming himself down. If this woman, whoever she was, had allowed him into her home, odds were that the husband wasn't home or wasn't coming home for a while.

Hell, that could even have just been a boyfriend or something. Didn't mean that he had anything to worry about. Once more he had to do the first thing first: Find his clothes, then figure out where he was.

The former proved considerably more difficult than the latter, and as a result he was forced to rummage through the dresser drawers before him and select a black outfit that left only his bare feet, hands, and head visible to an observer.

His location was marked rather obviously with a quick look out the window that revealed the Brussels Estate monument. What's more it was roughly the same angle from which he usually viewed it from. He was, give or take a few floors, at home. This was the hotel he lived in along with many other war veterans as the government provided it free of rent.

Alright, then. I can just head home without having to worry about who the purple haired woman was.

Striding over to the door he opened it, taking Duo Maxwell who stood on the other side of the door by surprise, his room key still half-extended toward its corresponding slot in the door.

"Zechs? What are you doing here? Why are you in my clothes? And where the fuck is Hilde?"

End


End file.
